Bullet Work (31 page)

“I’m Madeline Kaine. AJ’s mother. And this
is—”

“Josh Kaine,” Dan finished for her. He
reached forward and shook the man’s hand. Josh was the CEO of Kaine
Enterprises, a Fortune 500 company in the retail industry. Dan had
recently read a feature story on his acquisition of Bid-Mart in
Forbes
magazine.

“You’re AJ’s parents? I had no idea.”

Madeline nodded. “Thank you for all you did
for AJ. He told us about you when he would call. We were so glad he
had someone to look out for him.” She paused and swallowed hard. “A
friend.”

“I wish I could’ve done more. He was a nice
young man, and I’ve never seen anyone with his level of care and
skill around horses.”

Josh put his arm around Madeline. “Dan, thank
you. AJ had a difficult time making friends. He lived in a world of
his own. Kids like AJ can become fixated on things. Some like
trains or trucks—”

“Or horses,” Dan added.

Josh nodded. “From the day he was born, he
was all horses all the time. And as AJ learned more about them, it
wasn’t enough to read books or watch programs about horses. He had
to be around real horses. All the time. I’m not proud of this, but
AJ ran away from home several times. When we’d find him, he would
always be with horses. He was happiest when he was around
them.”

“We had to do a lot of soul-searching and
research. So, Madeline and I decided we had to do something, both
for AJ and for our sanity. Dick Latimer is Madeline’s cousin. We
agreed to let him work for Latimer. We wanted to set AJ up with an
apartment, but he wouldn’t leave the barn. So we did what we could
to make sure he was safe and in a somewhat controlled environment,
where he could be with horses.”

Madeline pushed the Kleenex under one eye and
said, “We finally realized we had to let him do what he wanted, not
what we wanted.” She sniffed and put the Kleenex under the other
eye. “He had to call us every day, and we checked in with Dick a
couple of times per week,” Madeline said. “Always made sure he had
what he needed. I was so scared at first. Neither of us knows
anything about horses or horse racing. And to send AJ off—” She
extended her arms and looked around the cafeteria. “Into God knows
what. I was a nervous wreck. But he called every day. That’s one of
the things about AJ; his routines didn’t vary. I’m just glad that
calling his parents was one of his habits. I think I would have
gone crazy otherwise.”

“AJ didn’t have many friends,” Josh said. Dan
could see this was hard for Josh to talk about. He was starting to
choke up. Dan needed to interrupt him.

“Mr. Kaine, I was proud to have been his
friend. I wish I could’ve spent more time with him. Gotten to know
him better,” he said.

Josh cleared his throat and gathered himself.
“Please, call me Josh. We were so excited when AJ told us about
you. Of course, we had to have you checked out. I hope you
understand. Dick said you were an all right guy. Not one to take
advantage of AJ or get him into trouble. And I appreciate your
efforts to help him when the police took him in.”

“Not sure what I said, but we got him out on
his own recognizance,” Dan said. “Honestly, I couldn’t explain why
they changed their mind so quickly.”

“I admire your candor. Probably had something
to do with me being a close friend of the governor,” Josh said. Dan
thought his persuasive argument had carried the day. Turns out it
was a phone call to the governor from Josh Kaine.

“Dan, I understand you’re in private practice
here in Virginia. I had our general counsel check out your practice
and experience. Occasionally, we have a need for local counsel in
Virginia. If it’s okay, I’d like to have our GC set you up on our
preferred list for legal services. No guarantees—but, Lord knows,
we always seem to have plenty of work for our outside counsel.” He
smiled and handed him a business card.

“Thank you, sir. I’d love to help out any way
I can.”

Madeline reached forward and hugged Dan. It
was like she didn’t want to let go—like Dan was her last connection
with AJ. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then the tears came again.

They started to move away. “Mr. and Mrs.
Kaine? I have one other thing I want to ask you. His name? Ananias
Jacob. Where did that come from? Is it a family name?”

Madeline brushed away some tears and said,
“We had always planned to name him AJ. Actually, it was going to be
Andrew Jacob. He was born six weeks premature. He was sick and
weak. We went through all the grief stages while he was in the
neonatal intensive care unit.”

She paused and seemed to reflect. “We had
kind of an awakening. He was such a fighter. He wanted to live
despite his size and the odds against him. Watching him struggle
inspired us. He opened our eyes to what life was all about. I
mentioned that phrase to our minister, and he shared the story of
Ananias from the Bible, and we thought it fit. So he became Ananias
Jacob.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “Uhm, how does that
tie in with the biblical story of Ananias and Sapphira? I don’t get
it.”

“Oh, not that Ananias,” she said. “The other
Ananias.

“The other Ananias? What do you mean?”

“There are two Ananiases in the bible. The
one you mention—but also Ananias of Damascus. Totally different
people. Our Ananias was the one who touched Paul and helped him
see.” Dan gave her a puzzled look. She continued, “God asked
Ananias to touch Paul and cure his blindness. Whether that was
allegorical or physical, who knows? But after Ananias touched him,
it changed Paul’s life.” She took a deep breath and held it for
half a second. “AJ changed our life. He changed the way we saw the
world, so it made sense to us. He was our Ananias.” Then the tears
came freely.

Josh patted Dan on the shoulder, and they
walked away. Dan simply stared as they moved through the thinning
crowd.

Chapter 58

dan walked the mezzanine inside the
grandstand. It was an hour to the first post, and only the true
die-hard handicappers were present. Of course, he spotted Lennie
down below in his box, scribbling and examining his computer
sheets. Dan stopped by the nearest vendor and ordered two large
black coffees. He slowly descended the steps and handed one of the
coffees to Lennie. He nodded and accepted it. Dan sat down and
pulled the lid off the steaming liquid and stared out into the
infield.

“Wasn’t your fault,” Lennie said. “Wasn’t
anything you could do.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Dan, if it wasn’t this Saturday, it would
have been another time when you weren’t around. You couldn’t
protect him from himself.”

“Protect him from himself? He had a gift. He
shouldn’t need to be protected from himself.”

“That’s the nature of the world, Dan-o. We
all need to be protected from ourselves, but in the end, we’re on
our own, and the decisions we make are sometimes disastrous. That’s
the world we live in. Friends help friends, spouses help spouses,
sometimes strangers even help strangers, but in the end we’re on
our own. We can’t always be protected from ourselves. And you can’t
blame yourself for that. You didn’t make the rules.”

Dan blew on the coffee and took a sip.
Neither said a word for a long time. The steam from the java
swirled upward into Dan’s eyes as he hunched forward, holding the
cup with his hands between his knees.

Dan couldn’t help himself. He thought of
AJ.

He had a gift so big—why a life so short?

Dan couldn’t change anything. He was sad,
angry, depressed, and, maybe worst of all, just missed the kid.
There was his simple innocence and his laser-like focus to serve
these four-legged athletes. He didn’t deserve this. He was taken
while trying to relieve an animal from pain. It was a sacrifice he
didn’t have to make but at the same time one he was compelled to
make.
Did he know it would kill him? Was that
what he wanted?

Dan could sense Lennie wasn’t studying his
sheets. He was looking at him. Finally, Dan turned his head and
said, “I’m okay.”

“Yes, you are, my friend.”

“I just don’t understand it.”

“Well, join the club.” Lennie stacked some
pages on his lap and turned to Dan. “Thomas Edison was one of the
brightest inventors in our nation’s history. Hell, the world’s
history, for that matter. You know what he said, don’t you?”

Dan looked at him, not saying anything. He
knew Lennie would continue.

“He said, we don’t understand one millionth
of one percent about anything.”

Dan smiled.

“And Dan-o, he was a smart guy, so if that’s
the way he looked at the world, what chance do you and I have?”

“Still bothers me.”

“Means you’re human,” said Lennie. “And last
time I checked that was a good thing.”

They both sipped coffee and watched the
grandstand start to fill.

“You like anyone today?” Dan said
finally.

“Whaddaya think? I just come out here for my
health? I like Gilbert’s horse in the third. Our boy TP’s got a
shot with Emilio in the sixth. Should be at good odds, and the
feature’s got a vulnerable heavy favorite. It’s a beautiful world.
You know what else?”

“What?”

He stabbed Dan’s shoulder with his index
finger. “My best friend has an undefeated stakes-winning filly. You
going to the Breeders’ Cup?”

“I doubt it. She’s eligible under the ‘win
and you’re in,’ but Jake wants to try her at a distance against
softer company. Maybe Florida before the end of the year.

“The way she came back after being passed at
the head of the stretch. That’s special, my friend. Can’t teach
that. And she’ll get a distance of ground. Bred to. Her daddy
nearly wired the best three-year-olds in the country at a mile and
a quarter. Little race run on the first Saturday in May—maybe
you’ve heard of it. Momma broke her maiden in a route race. Oh,
she’ll get a distance of ground all right. Lots of money to be made
with a good three-year-old filly. I smell Kentucky Oaks.” He
referred to the filly version of the Kentucky Derby, run the day
before the Derby each year. “But knowing your horse could be in the
Breeders’ Cup and passing. Wow, that takes nerves.”

“Much as I’d love to, Jake’s job is to make
sure we do the best thing for the animal.” Dan chuckled. “I guess
he’s supposed to protect the horse from my ego.”

Dan looked up the racetrack. A line of grooms
slowly walked horses from the backside toward the paddock for the
first race.

Milt slapped him on the back as he slid past
into the front row seats of the box. “Gonna roll ’em today, boys. I
can just feel it.”

Lennie didn’t bother to look up from his
sheets. He deadpanned, “I’ll make sure they have plenty of large
bills, so you don’t hurt your back carrying home fives and tens,
Milt.”

“I’d appreciate it, Lennie. I would
appreciate it.”

With a hand on his forehead to shield the
sun, Dan squinted hard as the line of horses approached. In his
heart he searched for AJ. He strained to see that distinctive limp.
Of course, he wasn’t there. He never would be.

Dan would never get over the loss of Ananias
Jacob Kaine. And right now, even though it hurt, he was okay with
that.

Ten horses in single file, heads down as they
lumbered along the track’s outside railing. In a few short minutes
they would run with all their hearts, bursting with adrenaline,
striving to get to the wire.

Each appeared contemplative, like a solitary
boxer in a deserted training room minutes before a championship
bout.

Only one could win.

The rest went home defeated. That was the
game. That was the life.

They existed simply and humbly. They waited
for that one second. For that moment when they broke into the clear
down the home stretch, and no one was going to catch them.

They lived for that one chance—the chance to
get home first.

The End

Author’s Note

There is no racetrack in Northern
Virginia, but there should be. Fairfax Park is an imaginary
combination of racetracks and backsides I have had the privilege to
visit. Primary among them is Ak-sar-ben Racetrack in Omaha,
Nebraska. It is gone now, a victim of fierce competition for
wagering dollars. I hated to see it go, but it lives on in my
fondest memories. Those were simple days. All we had to do was pick
the winner, and they’d actually give us money for that.

I have taken certain literary liberties with
Aly Dancer’s preparation and training. Getting these athletes to
peak performance takes time, care, and patience. When done right,
it is a triumph of man and animal. Any errors or inconsistencies in
protocols or procedures are solely mine. Hey, it’s a novel.

Finally, some may feel that AJ’s ability to
communicate with horses is too extreme to be believable. Horse
whispering was once thought to be an exaggeration also. Medical
research has established that a small percentage of those afflicted
with conditions on the autism spectrum have qualities of intellect
that stagger the mind. AJ’s condition is of my own making, but I
refer you to studies of synesthesia, the theory of multiple
intelligences, and research on brainwave entrainment, particularly
between autistic children and dolphins. Extreme? Perhaps.
Impossible? Who’s to say? It may well be too early to tell.

I have always believed that what God takes
way in one dimension, he repays with gusto in another. The only
question is can we, as simple humans, comprehend and appreciate
where God has doubled down.

We all have a gift.

Life’s challenge is to discover it, nurture
it, and best of all, enjoy it.

Acknowledgements

first and foremost, I thank Becky
who makes my world complete. So many people have provided
encouragement for my writing. If I listed them all, it would double
the length of the book. You know how much I value your support. My
deepest appreciation to Mike Garrett for editorial direction and
advice, to Dr. Noon Kampani, for insight and assistance with
medical issues, to my favorite law enforcement personnel, P.B. and
B.C., for help with protocols and procedures, to my single
strongest advocate as a writer, Billie Caredis, to Don and Susan
DeCarlo for the laughs, the friendship, and a great name for the
protagonist’s love interest, to Harrison for tirelessly working to
keep me humble, and to the McLean Mafia, for…well, because I have
to.